


Obligations

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Incest, M/M, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-08
Updated: 2006-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie tries to impress upon Don that his work at CalSci is important and he can't just drop everything when Don needs his help.  Don does not react well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obligations

Charlie stumbled into the FBI office at 7:30. His eyes were bloodshot and his arms were full of papers.  
  
Don was already in the kitchen area, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  
  
"Hey, I have those calculations you wanted."  
  
"Oh yeah, we caught that guy late last night," Don said, already glancing at his watch. Charlie was beginning to seriously hate that watch.  
  
"Don, I was up all night. You should have called."  
  
"Yeah, sorry," Don said, not sounding the least bit repentant. "But we have a new case we could really use your help on. C'mon," he said, dumping a packet of Splenda into his coffee. "The file's on my desk."  
  
"I'm sorry, I can't," Charlie said.  
  
Don frowned. "What do you mean you can't? C'mon Charlie--"  
  
"I mean I can't, Don. I have a lecture to give this afternoon that I haven't even started to prepare for because I was working on the calculations for you, a test to write, papers to grade that I should have had back to my students weeks ago--"  
  
"The TA's can do some of that," Don said, already heading toward his desk.  
  
"Don," Charlie said, tossing the papers in his hands down on the table, "you're not listening to me. No. I can't. I have work to do. _My_ work."  
  
"Your TAs can grade the papers, you can write the test later, and you can improvise lectures with your eyes closed. It's a murder case, Charlie."  
  
Charlie took a deep breath. "I appreciate the seriousness of the case, Don. I do. But I also have obligations to other people, including my students. Obligations I've been ignoring because you said you needed my help with that last case."  
  
"I _did_ need your help. We got lucky, that's all. But what about this time? We might not be as lucky and this guy'll keep killing. Now c'mon."  
  
Charlie could feel the blood starting to boil beneath his skin. He knew having a screaming match in the FBI kitchen would be a bad idea, but he was exhausted, his nerves were shot, and he simply _couldn't_ do any more. "How dare you," Charlie hissed. "How dare you try to guilt me into this. Did you even notice that I'd pulled an all-nighter to finish this? For you? That impacts _my_ work and my students and me. I can't do it this time, Don. No." He gathered up his papers quickly and walked past Don, heading for the elevators.  
  
Don followed him into the elevator but waited before the doors closed before speaking. "Are you kidding me? You're pissed that you had to pull an all-nighter so now you're taking your toys and going home? Grow up, Charlie."  
  
Charlie barely restrained the urge to bang his head against the elevator wall. "Fuck you, Don. Do you _ever_ listen? I'm pissed I pulled an all-nighter on work I didn't have to do because _you_ were too inconsiderate to call me. I'm pissed because I'm your brother and your lover, not your fucking employee. I'm going home because I have my own things to do. And I have to say, I don't really appreciate you trying to tell me how to do my job."  
  
"You're a consultant to the FBI, Charlie. That means you _do_ work for me. Look, I'm sorry I didn't call you, okay? But don't punish the victims because you're pissed at me."  
  
"You're not sorry," Charlie spat back. "You're just saying you are because you want me to stay. And if you'll take a close look at my contract," he said bitterly, "you'll note the 'at will' clause. I have every right to say no. As you've on occasion reminded me, you _can_ do your job without me. You'll just have to solve this one on your own or wait for my help for a couple days until I clear some of this other stuff off my plate." The elevator slowed and Charlie turned his head to find a dark look on Don's face. "I'm sorry. You know I hate saying no, but I don't have a choice. I'll see you at the apartment later?"  
  
"No, you won't. I have a case to solve and you apparently have more important things to do."  
  
"Well I'm sorry my work isn't as _important_ as yours," Charlie spat as the doors started to open, "but it's still my work. It's important to me, but you wouldn't care about that. I guess I'll see you when I see you then." The doors opened completely and he stepped out, pausing to see if Don would say anything else.  
  
Don angrily jabbed the "door close" button with one finger and pushed the button for his floor. He understood Charlie had other obligations, but he was trying to prevent more people from dying and Charlie was bitching because he'd what, missed a few office hours?  
  
Charlie rolled his eyes as the doors slipped closed. He gritted his teeth and turned on his heels, heading for the door. All he was asking for was a little space to do the work he needed to do. His students were important to him, and just because they were didn't mean Don wasn't important, too.  
  
Except it wasn't whether or Don was important to him, that wasn't what was irritating Don. It wasn't even what was irritating _him_. It was that Don was treating him like a tool to be used and not a person. It was the way he treated everyone in times of stress, or, increasingly, simply when there was a case. It was bad for everyone involved and he wasn't sure how to bring it up without causing more problems.  
  
But he _was_ burned out and he _did_ have obligations to his students and his own work. And just because neither Don nor his Dad seemed to really respect that didn't mean it wasn't true.  
  
He was just so damned tired.  
  
Don crossed his arms and leaned against the elevator wall. He couldn't believe Charlie was doing this to him, leaving him alone to fend for himself when he _knew_ that his involvement would put this asshole behind bars faster than his team could do it alone. Yeah, he got that Charlie had his own life, but damn it, he _needed_ him.  
  
And it wasn't like he could just request another consulting mathematician. He and his team had gotten used to working with Charlie, they meshed with him well if not always flawlessly. If he brought in someone else they'd have to spend time and energy integrating the new person into the team dynamic and it would throw everything off.  
  
He stalked back to his desk and opened the file he'd intended to give to Charlie. God help them both if someone else died.  
  
Charlie sighed as he set his papers down in his office, pulling a stack of tests over to him. This was top-level graduate work and as much as Don might think just _anybody_ could do it, to discover the subtleties of the work needed his own personal attention. How dare he try and tell Charlie how to do his job anyway. Don'd pitch a fit and tell him he was meddling where he didn't belong if he ever made a comment about the way Don ran his team.  
  
Soon though, he was lost in the numbers, his tiredness, pique, and anger completely forgotten for the elegant solutions unfolding before him.  
  
Don practically lived in the office for the next few days. He went home only long enough to sleep for a few hours, shower, and change. He didn't think about Charlie, wouldn't think about him unless they absolutely needed him.  
  
By the second day, when Charlie hadn't heard from Don, he started keep his phone out and close by whatever he was doing. Every so often, he would glance at it as though it was just about to ring. His backlog of work was finally starting to dwindle by the third day, he'd slept well and ate and was finally starting to feel human again. But he still hadn't heard from Don. Picking up some of Don's favorite food, he swung by the FBI office on his way home, unsurprised to find Don still at his desk. "Here," he said, dumping the food at his elbow. "You need to eat."  
  
"Thanks," Don said, glancing at his watch and then looking back at the file on his desk. He still had some more things to go through before he would consider stopping.  
  
"You're welcome," Charlie said softly. He bit his lip, knowing what he wanted to ask next but feeling it would only provoke a fight. "Is--Can I help at all?"  
  
Don slid the file over without a word. He was still pissed at Charlie, but he wasn't going to turn down his help just because he was pissed.  
  
Charlie looked closely at the file, noting Don starting to dig through the bag of food in the corner of his eye. He started asking questions and Don answered them and soon they had fallen back into their familiar working rhythm of give and take.  
  
But it wasn't enough. Another woman died before they were able to catch the killer.  
  
Don barely looked at him for days afterwards, and Charlie felt terrible. He'd let Don down. The one time he said no and he'd let Don down. Retreating into the garage, he looked at his formulas and equations, the things he'd worked out to try and help, and it hadn't been good enough. _He_ hadn't been good enough and now Don probably hated him. He sat down on the couch, resting his head against the back, and tried to figure out what to do next.  
  
Don knew he should go to Charlie, say--something. But the truth was he didn't know what to say. He was as disappointed in himself as he was in Charlie. He shouldn't need Charlie to do his job, to prevent people from dying.  
  
Deciding he couldn't stay in the garage, Charlie headed for Don's, using his key to let himself into the apartment. He found Don on the couch with a beer, staring at the dead TV. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked in the oppressive gloom.  
  
"Yeah. Me too," Don said, watching Charlie's reflection in the TV screen. He sighed and closed his eyes. "You shouldn't be here. Not fit company right now."  
  
Charlie blinked in surprise but placed a tentative hand on Don's knee. They hadn't had any physical contact since the fight and Charlie missed him. "As if that matters to me," he said softly, trying to make his voice kind. "We should be able to talk about this."  
  
"Charlie," Don growled. He wasn't good company; he wasn't going to be nice or reasonable. "We'll talk later."  
  
Charlie gritted his teeth and stood, heading for the door. He paused, palm on the hallway wall. "You are such an ass, you know that?" he said, his back still to Don. "Do you think you're the only one with feelings? The only one who ever needs or hurts?"  
  
Don laughed bitterly. "That's rich, coming from you."  
  
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Charlie asked. He hadn't come over to fight, but if Don was spoiling for one, he'd give it to him.  
  
"It means that every time something goes wrong, really wrong, you withdraw into the garage into your precious little bubble because you can't deal and to hell with everyone else. That's what it means. Now get out, Charlie, this is exactly why I didn't want to talk to you right now."  
  
"And when you want something you treat everyone around you like a-a thing, like a tool to be used instead of a _person_ ," Charlie shot back, refusing to budge. "I didn't withdraw this time Don. I came _here_. I stepped out of the garage and came here because I thought you might be in pain. I thought about _you_."  
  
"Of course you came here, Charlie. Your little world is just fine, it's mine that's not."  
  
"My little world is _not_ fine because _you're_ not fine, Don," Charlie said, exasperated. "You're pissed at me because I wouldn't help you when you demanded it and you're pissed at yourself for needing my help in the first place. I'm pissed at you because I'm tired of being treated like an object who's only important to you when you need something and I'm pissed at myself for letting you down. That about sum it up?"  
  
"Is that really what you think? I only pay attention to you when I want something from you?"  
  
"That's how it feels," Charlie said, wrapping his arms around his waist.  
  
"Then why are you still here?"  
  
"Because I love you, you idiot!"  
  
"Even though you think I treat you like a tool?"  
  
Charlie sighed and sat next to Don again. "Yes, even though I think you treat me like a tool. It hurt to say no to you, it really did. But I knew I had to at least once. I had to try to get you to see that I'm a flesh and blood person. I have to eat and sleep and I have a job I love that requires _my_ attention. Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, Don."  
  
"You act like I was keeping you locked in the basement."  
  
Charlie chuckled a little. "Yeah well, some of that is my own fault. You have to know I'd walk through fire for you. Stay up all night as many days in a row as I had to just to please you. But for both our sakes, there has to be a line somewhere. Every now and then I have to know it's _me_ you want and not just my math. And it's frustrating to be as easily dismissed as I was, to not even rate the courtesy of a phone call to say you'd caught the guy."  
  
Don took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I'm sorry I didn't call you. You're right, I should have. Do you really think I only want you for your math?"  
  
"Sometimes. Look, you know most of the time, I'm right there with you, ready to dive into the numbers and help, but... it's nice to be asked, too. And I'm so sorry I let you down, that another woman died... I--I..." Charlie trailed off, his emotions starting to get the better of him.  
  
He didn't know what to say. If Charlie had been there would they have found the killer more quickly? Maybe. Maybe not. "We should have been able to figure it out ourselves. Your contributions are valuable, they are, but maybe I've become too reliant on them."  
  
"Okay," Charlie said, taking a deep breath, doing his best to get himself back under control. "Maybe... maybe you could convince me that it's not just the math you want?" he suggested, putting a hand on Don's knee again.  
  
"Ask me tomorrow," Don said hoarsely. He knew they needed to revisit Charlie's complaints when he was more clearheaded. But right now he was still frustrated and angry. He didn't want to feel pleasure right now--didn't deserve it. More than that, right now he didn't trust himself to give Charlie what he was asking for, what he needed. If he tried to start anything in his current frame of mind it would probably turn angry and rough and only reinforce Charlie's apparently low opinion of him.  
  
Charlie sighed. Don was probably right that now was a bad time for this, but he _missed_ his brother. He was sad and upset his actions had started this whole thing, but if he'd given in, if he'd stayed, would it have mattered? He didn't know. He was fairly sure the probability of him falling asleep at a white board or simply flipping out was too high for his liking. Don couldn't see it, but he'd done what he needed to do. He wished with all his heart that they'd been able to catch the guy sooner, that he hadn't been able to kill again, but he didn't know what else to say.  
  
"Come on, you need to get some sleep," Charlie said, pulling at Don's hand. "Or did you still want me to go?"  
  
"Come back tomorrow," Don said, trying to be gentle. His head was still a bad neighborhood, and he didn't like Charlie seeing him like this.  
  
Charlie sighed again. "Okay, Don, if that's what you want." He leaned over and placed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. "I love you. All of you. Even your short-comings." He stroked Don's hair, wishing he knew more what to say, wishing he knew how to ask for forgiveness. "Get some sleep," he said quietly, before standing and letting himself out.  
  
"You too," Don whispered. He finished off his beer and went to bed, hoping maybe extra sleep would help.  
  
....  
  
Charlie tossed and turned most of the night. He'd hurt Don, he knew that, but he had no clue how to _fix it_ , what to say to make Don see. Maybe there was nothing he could say and the only thing to do was wait until Don had some distance and some better focus on the situation. He sighed and rolled over again. He hated waiting.  
  
Don felt a little better the next morning. Not good, but not quite as awful as he had the night before. He took a long, hot shower and then called Charlie.  
  
"Hey," Charlie answered, doing his best to stifle his yawn. "What's up?"  
  
"Can I buy you breakfast?"  
  
"Absolutely. Just gimme a few minutes to get ready. Come pick me up in 20 minutes?"  
  
"See you in 20."  
  
Charlie hung up the phone and dashed through the shower, not bothering to take the time to dry his hair. It'd be a mess later, but he wanted to be dressed and ready when Don got there. He'd sounded a little better on the phone, not quite so--despondent, and Charlie took that as a good sign. He made it downstairs in 15 minutes, pacing the living room for the next 5 as he waited for the sound of Don's SUV in the driveway.  
  
"Hey," Don said, offering his brother a small smile. "You ready?"  
  
"Yeah," Charlie said, ducking his head a little. He fell into step next to his brother on the short walk to the car, climbing in wordlessly. He didn't know if he should say anything, so he simply waited.  
  
"Thank you," he said gruffly. "For yesterday. For understanding."  
  
"You're welcome." Charlie placed his hand lightly on Don's knee, not teasing, but just wanting, _needing_ to touch him. "I'm glad you called. I missed you."  
  
"I'm sorry if I hurt you. We should probably discuss some of what you said," he said. He hated "talking."  
  
"Thank you," Charlie said. "And I'm sorry I let you down." He paused. "I vote for coffee before we get into anything else," he said lightly. He knew how much Don hated this, but they _should_ talk about the last few days. They had to be able to if this was ever going to work.  
  
"Food first," Don agreed.  
  
Charlie settled into his seat in the diner booth and ordered a simple breakfast. He wasn't all that hungry. He and Don traded light small talk until the food arrived and they could be reasonably sure they wouldn't be interrupted. "So..." Charlie breathed.  
  
"So. You think I treat you like a tool."  
  
"Sometimes, yes. You get wrapped up in a case or you want to solve something right away and it's like you don't even see me, Don. I get why it happens, but I don't think you even know you're doing it."  
  
"So what do you want from me, Charlie?" he asked, trying his best not to sound defensive.  
  
Charlie bit his lip as he thought. "I'd like it if you could start to try asking for help instead of demanding it. And if you could start seeing that I already have one full-time job that requires my time and attention. Occasionally, I'm going to have to prioritize. It doesn't mean I don't want to help or that I won't help, just that I may not always be able to drop what I'm doing and immediately help. That's all. Is-is that fair?"  
  
He wanted gum. This felt more like a field operation than a discussion. He knew Charlie had a job, but people could die if he didn't help Don. "I'll try to be more aware of that," he said finally.  
  
"Thank you," Charlie said softly. "Now, what do you want from me?"  
  
 _I want you to drop everything when I could use your help_. "I have no idea," he said instead.  
  
"Don, please," Charlie said, taking Don's hand under the table. "Tell what I can do to fix this."  
  
"Don't think it can be, Charlie," Don said, shrugging. "We want fundamentally different things. Eat your breakfast. You look like you didn't sleep last night."  
  
"So it's be at your beck and call or nothing?" Charlie said as mildly as he could. "Do you want me to quit teaching so I can consult full-time?"  
  
"No, Charlie, that's not what I'm saying," Don said, irritated. He glanced at his watch. "I said you were right, you should be able to prioritize your work first. That's how it's going to be. But I'm never going to like it. So this--whatever it is, it's not going to be fixed." He pushed his plate away. "Are you finished?"  
  
"No, Don. Just wait. I don't-I don't want this to affect us. I miss you," he said softly.  
  
"Charlie," he warned, trying not to snap. "We'll talk about that later." They couldn't discuss their relationship in public. Ever.  
  
"Okay," Charlie said despondently. Privately he was afraid that things between them would never be the same again. "Will you drop me at my office? I have some things to do and then I can come by your office after lunch, okay?"  
  
"Why don't we just make it take-out at my apartment after work?" If Charlie was going to insist they have this conversation there wouldn't be time to go to his apartment and get back to work on his lunch hour.  
  
Charlie sighed. He hated this thing that was between them, hated that their work got in the way of their relationship, even though it made a perverted kind of sense. They were both so passionate about what they did, how could it not interfere? "That's fine. I'll meet you at your place after I'm done." He stood and looked at Don, knowing there were probably quite a few more things he needed to say but having no clue at all how to say them.  
  
....  
  
Don dropped Charlie off at CalSci and then immediately started thinking about work. He didn't stop thinking about work until he was pulling into the parking lot for his apartment building.  
  
Charlie got to Don's place first and tried not to fidget as he waited. He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit on the couch when he heard Don's key in the door.  
  
"Hey," Don said. He dropped the food off on the kitchen table and pulled out a beer. "Did you get that stuff done at CalSci?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm free and clear for a few days at least, except for my own research, but you know that's--flexible. How about you? Work okay?"  
  
"It was fine. Working on old cases."  
  
"Oh. Good." Charlie looked down at his hands and forced himself to stop wringing them together. "I guess we should eat," he said.  
  
Don sighed. "Are you planning on sulking all night?"  
  
"I'm not sulking," Charlie whined, realizing as soon as he said it that it sounded exactly like he was sulking. He took a deep breath and stood, crossing to Don. "I'm not sulking," he said more firmly. "I just hate this distance between us, and I don't know what to say to make it go away."  
  
"Charlie," Don sighed. "It'll be fine."  
  
"Kiss me," Charlie said, standing in front of Don. "If it'll be fine, then kiss me."  
  
Don rolled his eyes and leaned forward to give Charlie a quick kiss on the mouth. "Happy now?"  
  
"No," Charlie said honestly. "Don, you can barely look at me. Are you that pissed at me? Still?"  
  
"It's not you, Charlie. I'm still pissed at myself and how things went. I'm not feeling particularly affectionate right now, but that's because of me, not you."  
  
"But I'm the one who let you down," Charlie said. "You shouldn't blame yourself." He brushed past Don into the kitchen to retrieve a beer for himself. "You know, I wish I'd just kept my mouth shut. I just want things to go back to being normal between us."  
  
"You'd really rather keep feeling like I don't appreciate you?"  
  
"Of course not, Don, but if it's going to affect us, affect this..." Charlie clenched his fist. "Dammit, I need you. And I'll take you however I can get you."  
  
"Charlie, hey," Don said, his voice more gentle than it had been. "This is really just temporary, buddy, I promise." He put a hand on Charlie's shoulder and squeezed.  
  
"Really?" Charlie said, leaning into Don's touch, eyes wide.  
  
"Really. I promise."  
  
"Okay. Let's eat."  
  
"So what's been going on at CalSci?" Don asked, trying for a measure of normalcy.  
  
"Oh you know, much of the same." Charlie started dishing out the food, talking easily about the more interesting events going on. Don talked about his cases as they ate, and the evening passed in relative comfort.  
  
At the end of the meal, Charlie put the dishes in the sink and leaned against the wall leading into the living room. "I guess I should go. Unless--did you want me to stay?"  
  
"Stay," Don said, catching his wrist. "I'm sorry it just--takes a while for me to get into the right headspace."  
  
Charlie sat down and offered Don a smile. "Your head must be an interesting place after a case," he mused softly. He placed a warm hand on Don's jaw. "You should let me help."  
  
"Not interesting, Charlie. Bad. Dark."  
  
"Tell me about it?"  
  
"Charlie, it--it's just dark. Regret and recrimination and the horrors of my job on an endless loop. It's a bad place to be."  
  
Charlie ran his hand along Don's brow, trying to smooth out the worry lines. "Let me help, Don," he whispered, pressing his lips to Don's gently.  
  
"Charlie," Don whispered back. He still tried to shield Charlie from the things he dealt with. He wasn't able to hide it all, of course, not if he wanted Charlie to be of any use in helping to solve cases. But he did try.  
  
Charlie leaned in and kissed him again, more firmly this time. "Just let it go a little. I'm here for you," he said, shifting closer, their knees pressed together. He wanted so much to be in the warm embrace of his brother, but he knew that's not what Don needed right now. Don needed him to be strong. "I'm right here," he repeated.  
  
Don returned Charlie's kiss, pulling him out of his chair to hold him close.  
  
Biting back a surprised gasp, Charlie wrapped his arms around Don, clinging to him, relief flooding him to finally be back in Don's arms.  
  
Don held him tight, rocking him gently. "It's okay, Charlie," he murmured.  
  
"I missed you _so much_ ," Charlie murmured into Don's neck, voice tight. He pulled back enough to kiss Don's cheeks and eyelids, the crease of his brow, the hollow of his throat. "I thought you were mad at me. And I thought you weren't ever going to _stop_ being mad at me."  
  
"Charlie, what are you talking about? You know I always forgive you eventually."  
  
"I know, but this... this felt different." Charlie leaned his head on Don's shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry," Don said quietly.  
  
Charlie smiled. "You're forgiven. I just--I love you so much, Don. And I love working with you. I don't ever want to lose those things. I'm so sorry if I hurt you." He shifted a little, straddling Don's lap so Don wouldn't have to hold him up. Still a little tentative, he bent his head to kiss Don's neck, teasing at a sensitive spot.  
  
"I love you too, Charlie," Don said quietly. "Even when I'm--upset, I still love you."  
  
"Can we please just--put all this behind us now? Let me take some of that pain away." He caressed Don's cheek with his thumb, the solid feel of Don's body beneath his and the warm, clean scent of his skin making him remember exactly how long he'd been without the one thing he craved the most. "Please let me," he murmured, pressing their lips softly together.  
  
"Okay," Don said quietly. "Okay."  
  
Charlie smiled a little, kissing Don quickly before scrambling to his feet and pulling Don up off the couch. Taking Don's hand, he led him into the bedroom. "Sit down," he directed quietly, almost surprised when Don obeyed. Charlie sank to his knees, bending down to unlace Don's boots and pulled them and his socks from his feet. He ran his hands gently up Don's thighs, glancing up to see Don watching him closely. He claimed a kiss as he tenderly started to remove Don's shirt, opening it a button at a time.  
  
"Charlie," he whispered hoarsely.  
  
"Shh," Charlie murmured. "Let me do this for you."  
  
Don nodded, lifting a hand to caress Charlie's curls. He let his eyes drift shut a little when Charlie's fingers skated across his naked chest, teasing briefly at a nipple before moving down. He made himself open his eyes to watch as Charlie pulled his belt open and undid the fly of his jeans.  
  
Charlie smiled and caressed him gently through the fabric of his underwear.  
  
Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Don muffled a soft groan. He wasn't hard, not yet. Things in his head were still too muddled, too awful for him to focus. But Charlie--it figured Charlie would be the only one to be able to cut through the glut of emotion and allow him to start to feel normal again. Charlie's hand was warm and gentle, and Don leaned back a little as his body responded.  
  
Charlie smiled and continued his gentle caresses for a moment before urging Don to lift his hips so he could slide his jeans off.  
  
Obliging, Don let himself be stripped. He almost thought Charlie would now tuck him into bed, but instead he leaned forward, kissing his knees and his thighs, curls tickling his skin. Don's blood pounded in his ears as it rushed to fill his cock. And just like that, the only thing that mattered was Charlie. Charlie was here, warm and alive and wanting, needing him. Pulling Charlie forward by the shoulders, Don pressed their mouths together hard, claiming his taste in a firm, wet kiss.  
  
Charlie closed his eyes and moaned softly, more than willing to cede control to Don if that's what he needed.  
  
"Charlie," Don murmured, releasing him. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I know. I forgive you," Charlie said quietly. "And I love you."  
  
"I love you," Don echoed. He tilted his head, looking at Charlie critically. "You're wearing far too many clothes."  
  
"Gonna do something about that?"  
  
Don smirked and crooked his finger. "C'mere," he purred, pulling Charlie up and getting him to stand between his legs. He slid his hands under Charlie's shirt, caressing the warm skin and pressing his face into Charlie's stomach, inhaling his scent deeply. Pushing the shirt up, he kissed the band of exposed flesh, dipping his tongue briefly into his belly button.  
  
Charlie shivered and gently ran his fingers through Don's hair.  
  
Don moaned softly as he tugged Charlie's shirt off and cast it aside. He continued tonguing the soft flesh of Charlie's belly as his nimble fingers pulled at Charlie's belt and undid the fly of his jeans. Slowly, he rolled the jeans down his hips, moving to kiss his hipbones as more flesh was revealed.  
  
"Don," Charlie whispered. His voice was a curious mixture of need and relief.  
  
"Love you, Charlie," Don murmured, pulling his jeans off his legs and helping him step out of them. "Never wanted you to doubt that." He kissed the head of Charlie's cock lightly before sucking the tip between his teeth.  
  
Charlie shuddered and whimpered at Don's heat, his hands carefully clutching his brother's shoulders. "Scared me," he whispered.  
  
"Gonna make it up to you," Don promised, sucking a little on just the tip of Charlie's cock and then releasing it, repeating the process again and again as he talked. "Never want to be without this. Without you."  
  
"Are you sure? Sure you'll always want...?"  
  
"I'm sure," Don said firmly before sucking on Charlie in earnest, drawing him into his own wet heat.  
  
Charlie moaned, his head falling back as pleasure arced through his body.  
  
Don's tongue traced the vein on the underside of Charlie's cock, the taste instantly familiar as he dropped one hand to play with Charlie's balls. He loved the feel of Charlie's cock in his mouth, the size and weight of it, the texture. The only thing he loved more was being inside him. "Need you, Charlie," he whispered into his warm skin, inhaling his musk.  
  
"Please, Don," Charlie whispered back. "Please."  
  
With one last long pull on Charlie's cock, Don stood and wrapped his hands around Charlie's shoulders. He claimed Charlie's mouth in a deep kiss as he turned Charlie toward the bed, following him down as he sat.  
  
Charlie pulled Don toward him, kissing him hungrily.  
  
Don moaned softly into his brother's fierce kiss, caressing his skin, refamiliarizing himself with the feel and texture of his body. "You are so perfect," he murmured as he broke off to grab the lubricant from the nightstand.  
  
"Not perfect. But made for you," he whispered.  
  
Don smiled softly. "Just for me," he acknowledged, kissing him deep and thorough as he slipped one slicked finger into Charlie.  
  
Charlie gasped and held himself open for Don.  
  
His body was warm and pliant, opening to his probing easily and Don longed to sink himself inside that heat. Charlie's curls were matted to the pillow, his shining mouth parted slightly as he panted through the pleasure, eyelids drooping but eyes still watching his every movement. Don kissed the inside of Charlie's thigh as he finished prepping him, crooking his fingers to nudge once at his prostate before withdrawing to slick and line up his cock.  
  
Charlie moaned and pulled Don down for a long, sweet kiss.  
  
"I love you," Don murmured against his lips, swallowing Charlie's gasp as he slid inside.  
  
Charlie keened and held onto Don tightly. _Finally_. Finally he felt safe again, warm and loved.  
  
Don let himself be wrapped in Charlie's arms, Charlie's heat searing away the last of Don's insecurities and dark thoughts. He slid out, rolling his hips and settling automatically into their easy, familiar rhythm.  
  
Charlie made soft gasps and moans trying to draw Don inside him as deeply as he could.  
  
"Charlie," Don moaned, thrusting against him as deep as he could, angling for his prostate.  
  
Pleasure exploded through Charlie's body, stealing his breath.  
  
Don upped his pace, watching Charlie closely, drinking in his responses as he drove him steadily toward the brink. He wrapped his hand around Charlie's cock, stroking him in time, twisting his wrist at the top to palm the head just the way Charlie liked.  
  
Charlie shuddered, threw back his head and keened. He wasn't going to last very long, not like this.  
  
"Just let it go, Charlie," Don whispered, panting as he thrust. "Let go for me."  
  
Charlie came with a startled cry of relief, still holding on to Don tightly as shudders wracked his body.  
  
The feel of Charlie's orgasm pulled Don over the edge and he gripped Charlie's shoulders, holding him as tightly as he was being held as he emptied himself deep inside him. "Fuck," he moaned as the aftershocks hit and subsided, leaving him spent and tingling.  
  
Charlie grunted in agreement but made no attempt to move.  
  
Don rested his head on Charlie's shoulder, shifting a little so he slipped gently from his body and Charlie could relax his legs. He kissed the available skin soothingly, still reveling in his taste.  
  
Charlie whimpered softly and caressed Don's skin with one hand.  
  
"I'm going to try do better, Charlie," Don said softly, when his brain was functioning again but before his emotional barriers had a chance to go up. "To show you you're important to me."  
  
"Thank you," Charlie said softly, seriously. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome," Don said, rolling to the side at last and gathering Charlie in his arms. "You are, you know. Important. More than anyone would ever believe."  
  
"Doesn't matter what anyone else believes. Only us."  
  
Don smiled and pecked Charlie on the lips. "Only us," he repeated.  
  
"I love you," he whispered, snuggling against him.  
  
"And I love you," Don said, pulling Charlie as close as he could and arranging the sheets around them. He kissed his temple, feeling complete, really complete, for the first time since their fight. He listened to Charlie breathing in the darkness, waiting until it was steady and even before letting his own eyes fall shut and letting himself drift off to sleep.


End file.
